


Sweet Surrender

by chloebeale



Category: American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-12 19:10:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1196259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chloebeale/pseuds/chloebeale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slightly reimagined version of Coven, written with a focus on Cordelia and Misty; eventual Cordelia/Misty pairing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction--Persecution Song

 

>  
> 
>   
> _"At the very start_  
>  _There were whispers in the dark_  
>  _And for all the world to see_  
>  _There was witchcraft at its heart..."_
> 
> \-- The Persecution Song, Cradle of Filth

 

Living alone did not bother Misty much, as she spent a large majority of her time outside, amongst the indigenous swamp plants and animals. With this life blooming all around her, Misty did not feel so alone.

Only the quiet nights indoors were a problem. She coped with this nightly melancholy by listening to music, the sound of Stevie Nicks' calming voice wafting through the shack. Sometimes Misty would dance, spinning around and feeling the music in her bones. No one understood like her Stevie did. She found herself talking to the woman from time to time, and even though she knew no one was actually there, it soothed her.

It was on a lazy afternoon when she decided to venture out further than usual. She followed the voices she heard, and found a congregation of people outside. It took her some time to realize that these people were worshipping together. A man at the front was speaking passionately from a book in his hardened hands.

Misty stood silently, listening to the preacher and the excited parishioners. She didn't identify with the words being spoken--these people weren't of her religion, that of nature--but being around people was something she didn't get to do often, so she did not mind much. The preacher was well-spoken and his words beautiful, even if Misty did not agree with his preachings.

She lost interest in his speech after a while, though, and instead focused on her surroundings. 

Tears sprung to her eyes when she saw the creature, a wounded bird lying motionless on the grass. Misty bent down and scooped the avian into her hands. She ran her thumbs softly along the feathers, nearly sobbing when she realized the bird was dead.

Connecting to the animal, she found the spark of life left in it and touched it, bringing it back again. The bird sprung to life in her hands and flew away. Her heart leapt happily in her chest as she watched its wings flapping. How she wished she could fly. She imagined it would be beautiful to be so free.

At first Misty thought no one had noticed the miracle she'd performed, but then the angry murmuring began. She yelped when someone grabbed her arm. She tried to pull away but a second person gripped her other arm and the next thing she knew, she was being brought in front of the crowd.

There was impassioned yelling from the men clutching her arms. Misty felt dizzy and scared, registering the darkness surrounding her.

These people were hateful! They shouted that she should be burned. She protested, assuring them that she was a good person and not an evil witch like they said.

But there was no changing their minds. Her head and heart pounded as she was tied up. Misty struggled against her aggressors, trying to free herself from the post she had been tied to, to no avail.

When the flames began, as did her screams.

"It's you that will end in flames. I swear it!" The swamp witch growled. Those were her last words. Or so she thought.

 

* * *

 

Her eyelids fluttered open. The memories came flooding back, leaving Misty overwhelmed.

Her breath was heavy as she moved to lean on a nearby tree. It felt as if her knees were about to give out under her.

How was it she was alive? She'd been burnt at the stake by those horrible religious fanatics. But yet here she was.

She knew she had some sort of powers that allowed her to bring things back to life. She had only used those powers on animals in the swamp though, never realizing those same abilities could be used to resurrect human beings.

Misty wondered if this meant she was immortal. Would she always come back after death? She loved life and living things and learning and Stevie, but the thought of living forever was unpleasant.

Frightened and shaking, the swamp witch stumbled across the grass, trying to remember in which direction she'd come before.

She barely made it to the shack before nightfall, shivering in the cool evening air. Her clothing had burned in the fire along with her body and she was nude. Misty hurried inside, finding the warmest clothes she could and getting under a pile of blankets.

Her face was streaked with tears when she finally fell asleep. 


	2. Hopeless Wanderer

>   
>  _"So when your hope's on fire_   
>  _But you know your desire_   
>  _Don't hold a glass over the flame_   
>  _Don't let your heart grow cold_   
>  _I will call you by name_   
>  _I will share your road."_   
> 

> \-- Hopeless Wanderer, Mumford and Sons

Cordelia was overjoyed to hear of another potential witch for the Coven. Their numbers were small--only three girls were currently residing at Miss Robichaux's Academy For Exceptional Young Ladies. The chance of a fourth joining them was positive news indeed. 

It was her good friend and stand in mother, Myrtle Snow, who had brought Zoe Benson to Cordelia's attention. Myrtle always kept tabs on unusual stories. Not only did the strange and unusual interest her, but it was in the interest of the Coven to investigate the happenings, in case suspicions of another witch turned out to be true.

The story behind this girl was most intriguing. It seemed that her boyfriend died under peculiar circumstances. The boy had been healthy with no signs of any pre-existing condition.

Though the official cause of death on the report was a brain aneurysm, Myrtle suspected otherwise. The death of poor Charlie had come about after he and the girl had intercourse for the first time. 

It seemed that latent powers were involved in this suspicious death. It was not likely that the girl intended to do her boyfriend harm. Her powers were new and beyond control. She was probably unaware that she had even been the reason behind what had happened to the boy.

Many of their lives as young witches began that way--under tragic circumstances, some kind of accident caused by a lack of control. Cordelia was lucky enough to know about her heritage. She'd been trained from an early age and so none of those tragic circumstances applied to her, except the unfortunate fact that her mother was a sociopath.

Cordelia busily prepared the Academy for the arrival of another student. She made up one of the spare rooms before she left for the grocery store, determined to restock the cupboard. These teenage girls had voracious appetites, they were growing young ladies, after all, and the Headmistress was happy to provide for them.

Excitement buzzed through her body as she pulled the van up to the building. It looked as if Myrtle had already arrived with the new girl. 

Leaving the groceries in the vehicle, Cordelia rushed inside to introduce herself to their newest addition.

Zoe had already met the other girls, she saw as she came in. The blonde newcomer was surrounded by Nan, Queenie and Madison. She seemed perturbed to some extent, but Cordelia blamed that on the harsh presence of Madison Montgomery, by far the foulest young woman she had ever met.

Cordelia smiled brightly, introducing herself to Zoe right away before turning to the remaining three.

"All right, girls, there's a van full of groceries in the driveway that needs unloading," she gently suggested, ignoring their eye rolling, "I'll show Zoe to her room. Then we meet for Midday Gathering."

Zoe offered an awkward smile in return as the Headmistress gave her a tour of the Academy. In the living room, with the other girls, Cordelia gave her a history of the building. While Cordelia doubted that Zoe was interested in knowing all of these things, she believed it important to know these details and she pressed on. Her companion at least pretended to care, which she appreciated, as none of the other inhabitants of the house ever attempted to do so.

"In its heyday, the Academy was home to as many as sixty girls. Over the years, those numbers dwindled," she explained.

This caught Zoe's interest. She peeked curiously at Cordelia through her curtains of hair. From sixty to four, that was quite a drop.

"Why?" 

"We're a dying breed, Zoe," Cordelia urged, trying to express the importance of Zoe being there and how much the Coven needed her, "Many of the families who knew they carried the bloodline made a choice not to reproduce."

Zoe was silent for a moment. It had probably registered to her that someone carried the bloodline in her family. If it wasn't her mother who was a witch, someone along the line had been. Cordelia waited patiently for Zoe's response. It came, but she decided to change the subject entirely.

Although Zoe hadn't been there long, she had already learned some things from the other students. They must have told her about the existence of the Supreme, but hadn't bothered to expand on what that meant. Zoe took the opportunity to ask.

"So, what's a Supreme?" she asked casually, "I've never heard the term applied to anything other than pizza."

This made Cordelia chuckle. She paused to think of the appropriate way to word her response. What she wanted to say was some very unflattering words about the current Supreme, her mother, but instead she opted for the vague, catch all definition of what a Supreme was and not who. That she could find out later.

"An average witch is born with a few natural gifts. But in each generation there is one woman who embodies countless gifts. Some say all of them. She is the Supreme."

The young woman nodded.

"Okay. What do you mean, gifts? Like special powers and stuff?" 

"In a sense, yes. Average witches have a special power of sorts, whereas the Supreme is much more powerful. She can perform any act she wishes. The Supreme acts as a leader to the Coven," Cordelia told Zoe seriously.

Zoe assumed that since Cordelia was the Headmistress, then she must be the leader to the Coven. Naturally, she assumed that it was Cordelia who was the Supreme. Zoe asked Cordelia if she was the Supreme, and she replied that she was not, but that she would help her identify what her gifts were and teach her to control them. 

Cordelia heard Queenie's interjection and gently corrected it--this was not about suppression, it was about control. Suppressing their powers would do no good and in the end was fruitless.

Madison made a comment that Cordelia thought it was still the 1600s, which couldn't have been more wrong.

The 1600s had been a safer time for them, as the group was more close knit and understood. In those times, people knew of their ancestry and could be protected. In these days, a witch could go unnoticed until it was too late.

Cordelia thought about the story she'd heard about the poor girl who'd been burned at the stake only months before. The story had touched her when she heard it, her heart breaking for the young woman who had surely died in agony. She wished more than anything that they could have saved her.

With a sigh, she told the story to the girls listening.

"...Like that poor Cajun girl just outside Lafayette a few months back. Misty Day. She wasn't much older than any of you. And she had a gift, the power of resurgence," it was a beautiful gift, the most beautiful, Cordelia believed, "Misty could reach into that place between life and death and draw a soul back from the precipice, back to this side, back to life. To some, this appeared to be the God-touched power of resurrection....to others, necromancy." She expressed these words with admiration.

"So what happened to her?"

"The same thing that's happened to women like us throughout the centuries. She was burned," Cordelia answered solemnly, "We are under siege, ladies. Our lives, our very existence is always at risk. Know this or face extinction."

Later that night, the same woman they had been discussing was talked of on the news. There were rumors of what had happened but nothing certain, only that the girl was missing.

The girls in the Academy watched the news broadcast raptly. They couldn't help but be interested in the possible death of a woman with powers like theirs. Cordelia's words had spooked them, and rightfully so. None of them were safe.

> _"Last night, communities across the county held candlelight vigils praying for Misty's safe return._
> 
> _However, sources close to the family have declined to comment on the fact that authorities now believe they have found the last known location of the missing girl._
> 
> _It is rumored that Misty Day may have been burned at the stake, though no official statement was released."_
> 
> \--News Broadcast

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to keep the chapters short, to accommodate my writing schedule. But updates will come almost nightly, I hope.


	3. Wildflower

 

>  
> 
>   
>  _"When a wildflower grows it picks its space_   
>  _And that’s the way it is when nature plays its lovely hand_   
>  _We’ll understand everything."_
> 
> \--Wildflower, Sheryl Crow

 

Misty heard about herself on the radio one afternoon. The announcer was talking about how she'd gone missing. _I ain't missin',_ Misty thought when he said it, but she knew it was best to stay here in her lonely old shack than wander out amongst other people. She learned a lesson about the dangers of humanity, something she'd known about before, but tried her best to ignore.

She always wanted to believe in the best in people, but Misty found time and time again that people were cruel. Her father had been cruel to her when she was growing up and living at home. He was abusive to her mother and to her as well, physically assaulting them and speaking to them unfairly. Misty believed her father was responsible for her mother's untimely death, and that was the reason she'd set out to live on her own. She didn't have much here in the swamp, but she was safe, for the most part. No one bothered to go out here and so long as she didn't go looking for trouble, it wouldn't find her.

Every once in a while, some brave soul would turn up in the bayou. Everyone knew the area was filled with alligators and not many attempted passage. The alligators could be vicious. They were smart creatures, though, they could perceive whether someone was a threat or not. They had never bothered Misty. Sometimes she helped them when she could, leaving them food and rescuing them when they needed to be rescued. Misty looked after plants and animals alike. She never felt alive unless she was connected to nature and here she could be. It felt nice to be needed.

She got lonely sometimes. The nature was beautiful and made her feel good, but all the living things in the swamp weren't exactly chatty. She hadn't spoken to another human being in years, besides that horrible day when she pleaded for her life, however long ago that had been. The people on the radio said she'd been missing for a few months. She figured they must be right. Misty didn't bother to keep track of the days and time passing meant almost nothing to her. Only seasons changing.

She sighed to herself, putting one of her favorite Stevie Nicks songs on to dance to. No matter how down and lonely Misty felt, Stevie could pick her back up again. The woman was magic, she reckoned.

 

* * *

 

While the girls had dinner together and got acquainted, Cordelia spent some much needed alone time in the greenhouse. She often went here for peace of mind and relaxation. Tending to the plants helped her stay calm, and these plants were important to their Coven, to be used in various potions that were needed.

She was working on a fertility potion. She was trying to perfect the ingredients--a potion like this had a variety of uses, not just personal ones. She could use them to interbreed plants if she needed, but this in particular she was planning to take herself. She'd have to test it first, of course, on an animal or some such, to make sure it was okay for her consumption, but she'd do that when it was finished.

Meticulously she combined the ingredients and heated them. Cordelia's concentration was unbreakable. She didn't hear her mother's footsteps. It was only when she felt her hand graze her hair that she realized anyone was there.

Taken by surprise, the Headmistress knocked over the potion. The glass shattered loudly and the liquid spilled out on the greenhouse floor. Fiona smirked at her.

"Ooh! You dropped your cocktail!" she laughed, amused at herself as usual.

Cordelia felt immediately on edge. Her chest was always tight around her mother, she found it hard to breathe or relax. For someone who tried so desperately to surround herself with positive energy, coming into contact with such negative energy as the Supreme's was detrimental for her state of mind. She tried to remain calm, keeping her voice level.

"I thought you were in Switzerland."

She had hoped she would never come back to the country let alone this house. Growing up, most girls admired their mothers. Cordelia had promised herself to be the exact opposite of what Fiona was, and so far, she had succeeded. She was the leader her mother refused to be. She was a kind and loving person. She was a good role model to these girls. And someday, she hoped to be a good parent as Fiona had never been.

"L.A.," Fiona corrected, "It's tragic, the glamour's gone. They put a shopping mall on Sunset and Vine."

Ignoring her mother's words, Cordelia looked helplessly at the mess of glass on the floor.

"I don't have a broom," she announced, irritated that she didn't have any means of cleaning up.

Fiona chuckled, "That's ironic."

The younger woman rolled her eyes. She stood up.

"Los Angeles? Why do you look so jet-lagged?"

She knew the comment would bother Fiona, which was her intention. She was nothing if not vain.

"I happen to look wonderful."

Cordelia bent down to pick jagged shards from the floor. She put some of her things away. A smile crossed her face, she disagreed with Fiona, her mother looked peaked and tired, less radiant than usual. Her age was finally catching up with her.

"Let me make you something. It's a restorative I've been experimenting with. This will fix you right up," she offered.

She didn't know why she bothered with being nice to her. It never got her anywhere. No matter how many years passed, Fiona would never change. Cordelia shouldn't have expected anything to be different but she always hoped Fiona would regret the way she'd behaved and try to be better.

Cordelia started the potion, which was actually an enduced sleeping potion; even though she knew her mother probably wouldn't take it.

"Delia, with her potions and powders. You know, one of my greatest disappointments in life is that you never fully realized the extent of your power."

Of course Fiona would mention disappointments. Cordelia knew that her existence in its entirety was probably a disappointment to her. After all, she rarely treated her with anything other than mild annoyance and apathy.

"I've done pretty well."

"You are the only child of the Supreme. You have royal blood running in your veins. You could be ruling the world."

She wasn't much for ruling the world. Fiona was so much like a supervillain sometimes that it made Cordelia laugh.

"I like my little kingdom here, thank you," the Headmistress answered curtly.

Fiona disagreed. "Yeah, well, your little kingdom is a mess."

Cordelia handed her the finished potion with anger in her eyes. She clenched her jaw and turned around. Her mother poured the potion into the cat's water bowl instead of taking it herself.

"No!" she grabbed the bowl before the feline could drink the potion, "Oh, you bitch!" Drinking that potion would have killed the cat, then again Fiona knew that. "It wouldn't have killed _you_."

"Just put me in a coma for a couple days?"

"Or weeks," Cordelia snapped back, "Look, why don't you just go away? I don't want you here. How else do you want me to say it?"

So much for staying calm. She could practically feel her blood boiling yet there Fiona sat, cool as a cucumber, lighting up a cigarette in the greenhouse like it was no big deal.

"You're still angry. I can tell," her mother commented, as if that was some brilliant observation. Cordelia hadn't exactly been hiding it.

"My God, you _ **are**_ the Supreme!" Cordelia told her sarcastically, "Such powers of observation."

As the smoking woman explained that she'd been on a retreat and how wonderful it had been, her daughter grew more frustrated by the minute. It was when she mentioned that the retreat was about forgiveness that Cordelia spoke up. Forgiveness, what a crock of shit.

"You dumped me here," she reminded her mother.

"You were sent to an elite boarding school," Fiona argued, "Boo hoo hoo hoo hoo."

The mocking tone annoyed her further. Cordelia stuffed some moss into a glass container, her back turned to the Supreme. She was verging on seething.

"You know, I've often thought that my big mistake with you was waiting so long before sending you away."

She wasn't going to take any more of her mother's bullshit, not tonight, hopefully not ever. Her zen attitude was out the window and Cordelia was pissed. Her jaw was clenched so tight her facial muscles were spasming.

"ENOUGH," She announced loudly, before taking a soft breath, "show yourself out," the younger woman practically whispered.

"No. I'm not going." When Fiona told her this, Cordelia slammed her knuckles into the table. "I'm staying. I'm here to help you," her mother continued. "Do you know that not fifty miles from here, a young woman was burned at the stake?" Cordelia grabbed a piece of garlic out of its container. She wasn't making anything at this point, just fiddling around so she could ignore her mother's stare. "It's Salem all over again. There is a storm coming. And _you_ are leaving these poor girls under your charge completely unprepared for it."

 

The daughter whipped her head around when she heard the accusatory tone of the word 'you.' Fiona was treating her as if she was a child, as if she was unaware of the dangers and couldn't protect the girls of the Coven. Sure, Cordelia was no Supreme, but she knew things. She was trying to prepare the girls as best she could. She didn't really want her mother's help...but she couldn't deny that her mother was more powerful than she was.

"I am aware of what's happening!" Cordelia assured her. "My entire teaching philosophy--"

"Has been an abject failure," Fiona interjected cruelly, "You teach them to cower. And to hide in the shadows. Well, there are no shadows, not anymore." She went on to explain that social media would out witches and make them into viral videos. The thought was absurd...right?

Cordelia felt as if Fiona was here to take over her life, to take command over her girls. This was all she had. Fiona was going to take that, too?

"No, no, no. This is _my_ life. You can't come in here and piss all over it," Cordelia asserted, "I will call the council."

This urge of Fiona's to teach the girls was ludicrous. She'd never shown interest in it before, and those three girls had been there for a while now. Fiona could have had the opportunity whenever she wanted, but it was now that she decided she wanted to take charge. Cordelia was willing to bet that Fiona would lose interest or change her mind within a week of making this decision.

Fiona was amused by Cordelia's threat.

"Do. Call the council. And then you can explain to them why you think it's a bad idea for the Supreme to teach them."

She really hated it when her mother had a point.

"When are you gonna die and stop ruining my life?"

Cordelia knew it was a horrible thing to say, but her mother was horrible. She deserved things like these to be said to her on the daily. Fiona actually managed a hurt sigh in response. At least her words hurt like she'd intended them to.

"I'm here. I'm staying. So why don't we make the best of it?"

Fiona's voice was quiet and calm when she said this. Cordelia couldn't argue anymore. It was tiring and her mother was, frustratingly, not completely wrong. It was probably a good idea for her to teach the girls. She could teach them some things Cordelia couldn't, even if she was a terrible role model and generally awful person. She hated to see what a girl like Madison could learn from a woman like her mother.

"Okay, fine, you'll stay. But I have some say in what you do here. I am the Headmistress and they will learn at their own pace. Don't force them into things they aren't ready for and treat them with respect. And you will treat **_me_** with respect."

"Oh, Delia, you're so endearing when you try to be hard."

"If you're going to be nothing but awful the whole time you're here then just go now, and don't the let the door hit your ass on the way out."

"My sweet daughter," Fiona's face lightened as she put out her cigarette on the work table, "I'll play nice."

Cordelia seriously doubted that.

 

 


End file.
